Dreams in Which I'm Dying
by the-one-less-traveled-by
Summary: Alone and Marked by Cain, Dean takes a desperate gamble that will fix Heaven for good but in the process cost him everything. Where are Sam and Cas when you need them? Can they save Dean before it's too late? Cheesy, I know. Apologies. I'm a big fan of Destiel, probably more in later chapters


It played on an endless loop in his head.

Sam's look of indignation at the joke about his shorts.

Ed, standing forlorn and alone in the headlights of the Impala.

"Something's broken here, Dean."

The spike of fear deep within him as Cain motions for him to reach out his arm.

"There is no more Sam, but I played him convincingly, I thought."

The burning sense of shame as he turns away from the brother he had always constantly let down, despite his attempts otherwise, and the angel he was slowly realizing he had never deserved. As a comrade, a savior, a friend, and maybe at one point something more… But no, Dean had let him down way too many freakin times.

"But if our roles were switched, if I was the one dying, I know you would do the same."

"No, Dean, I wouldn't. Same circumstances- I wouldn't."

His father, sprawled on the hospital floor-

Sammy tumbling, falling into the deepest pits of damnation-

A lone, bloody trench coat floating slowly back to shore-

The dull, incessant, never-ending whine of Bobby's heart monitor-

Kevin, lying broken and lifeless, an empty shell of the kid he had been-

His fault, his _fault_, HIS FAULT!

He threw the empty bottle across the room, where it smashed into the wall with a resounding crash.

Those blue eyes, avoiding his, instead looking to Sam for assistance.

"I'm poison," he had said, and he knew it now to be true. If not, then why did every person who ever got close to him end up dead? So when Sam had broken down one day after one too many bottles of whiskey and told Dean how he _really _felt, Dean had left.

He had reasoned that he was leaving to protect Sam and Cas, and in part this was true. Having no will to live meant fighting with reckless abandon, risking everything to reach a goal with no care about whether you make it to tomorrow.

Sam didn't need that, and neither did Cas. Dean knew that they would keep fighting, each with the other to watch their back, and after all the winged douches were finally stuffed back into Heaven they could have their peace. They didn't really need him, although deep down he had always secretly wished that they did. But Sam had been fine without him for the year he spent in Purgatory and Cas could look after himself quite fine. He _was_ an angel, after all.

Of course, Dean would never tell anyone any of this, least of all the people he loved most but kept disappointing again and again.

And now the world was coming down around him and he couldn't find a single reason to be loved.

"Stop it right there," he said to no one in particular. "You are definitely not going to start in on that whole 'self-pity' crap."

_If anything, you deserve to be alone, seeing as you mess up everything you touch_, he thought to himself.

Wow, he was becoming alarmingly sappy in his old age.

Or maybe it was the alcohol, he thought, as he took another swig from his, what was this, fifth beer? He didn't know, he'd lost count. Alcohol seemed to be the only thing that kept the ever-growing demons inside him contained, which was especially hard to do all alone in the dead hours of the night. And of course it was getting harder every day…

Man, he really was getting too old for this.

But no matter, tomorrow would fix that, would end it all for good. No more problems for Dean, and no more ways for him to mess up anyone else's lives either.

To tell the truth, he knew that right now he should feel sad, and maybe even a little scared. But instead all he felt was empty, and a slight twinge from the Mark on his arm, which he rubbed soothingly. He was just so tired, so done with the shit that life kept dumping on him, with Heaven and Hell and everything in between.

If he really thought about it (which was kind of hard with his beer-addled brain), there was no real emotion in him anymore. This might have been because of the Mark, but Dean also felt that when a guy lets down and consequently loses every person they ever cared about, and then messes up so bad their own brother won't look them in the face, they have reason to scrap all emotion and focus on revenge and revenge alone.

It would be better this way. No loopholes, no do-overs, and no one to miss him, that is if Crowley regained his place as King of Hell and followed through with his side of the deal. Dean was confident that for once he actually would.

But then there was the problem of somehow letting Cas know what was going down. Demons have no power over angels' memories, and so when Dean is literally wiped out of existence in every sense of the word, Cas might get a little confused. Dean would have to remember to tell Crowley to fill the angel in on the details after all was said and done.

He knows Cas won't miss him. Who could blame him? The angel owes nothing to the desperate, alcoholic hunter who had done nothing but get him killed and generally just messed up his life from the get-go. Cas was probably regretting ever rebelling from Heaven for Dean in the first place. When he had come to Dean, scared and lonely and newly human, what had Dean done? In Cas's time of need Dean had turned him away, forcing him to bear the brunt of his new, terrifying life alone. Dean hadn't seen Cas since that last night on the bridge, and he felt almost relieved that he wouldn't have to deal with the pain of saying a final goodbye to the angel he lov- no, had been best friends with.

However, he did wish desperately that he could see his brother one last time, if only to tell him how truly sorry he was about messing up his life. Every other time Dean had lost his brother, there had been no real goodbye, and although he had always made it back to Sam in the end, it was still painful to think that he might never have seen him again.

But this time it was for good, and he wouldn't be missing anybody or anything afterwards. He wondered what it was like to not exist, to become just matter with no thought or substance-

Blocking his mind before that thought made him second guess his decision, Dean stood up, swaying against the wall and felt a sudden, physically painful surge of loneliness that almost brought him to his knees again. But no, he deserved this pain, and he deserved to slog through this crap alone because everything, all of it, was _his_ fault.

Looking up, he saw through the window of the rundown, dirty motel room the first streaks of grey in the overcast sky that signaled dawn fast approaching.

Setting his bottle down on the table, Dean resolved to take a cold shower to rid his brain of the interfering alcohol and wake him up for the task ahead. He knew that staying up all night alone with his brooding thoughts had not been a smart game plan, but at the same time he knew he wouldn't have slept a wink even if he'd tried.

Maybe after the shower he would find a diner and order a nice big slice of apple pie for old time's sake. _When was the last time I ate?_ He thought suddenly. The demon inside him had chased away all feelings of hunger, and he realized now that he seemed to have lost weight recently without realizing it. All that that _thing_ left in him was a need for violence and darkness and evil, but Dean has suppressed that a while ago, along with the urges to become a full-on black-eyed bitch and rip everything to shreds.

Crowley had informed him that eventually the Mark of Cain would turn him into a full-fledged mega-demon like Cain had been, and that there was no way he could escape it. Of course when he finally shared this piece of info with Dean, it had been too little too late.

And maybe he would get one of those cream sodas like the ones he and Sammy used to-

"Don't think of Sammy, he orders himself.

Taking a deep breath, Dean Winchester staggers off to the bathroom, ready to prepare himself for the fight.

His final fight.

Two hours later, Crowley appeared, looking cocky and slightly devilish as usual, in front of an extremely surprised Sam Winchester, who promptly dropped his grocery bags and whipped out his demon knife.

"Cas!" he yelled, backing up into a defensive stance while never taking his eyes off of Crowley.

"Nice to see you too, Moose," Crowley said exasperatedly, rolling his eyes dramatically.

"What do you want?" Sam demanded gruffly, shifting slightly on the balls of his feet as if ready for either fight or flight at any moment.

"Do I have to have an excuse to visit my favorite Winchester?" Crowley scoffed, acting offended. "Although," he continued, adopting a thoughtful expression, "At this point I don't really approve of the way you've been treating poor, lonely Squirrel."

"What do you _want_?" Sam repeated more forcefully, relaxing his stance slightly and shifting his feet.

"Alright, Moose, don't get your panties in a twist. I have a message from that big bro of yours to you and that angel boyfriend of hi-"

A sudden rush of wings announced the arrival of said angel, who appeared suddenly looking rather disheveled as usual.

"Oh-ho, speak of the Angel and he shall appear!" Crowley smiled smugly.

"What is it, Sam? I'm sorry I was late I accidentally ran into some other angels on the wa-" Cas finally spotted Crowley leaning nonchalantly against a lamppost.

"What are _you_ doing here?" he demanded angrily, taking an aggressive step forward.

"Wow, I'm getting a very negative vibe from the two of you. Is it that time of the month again? Well, if you're both going to be so touchy than I guess I'll just come back when you're in a better mood…" Crowley turned as if to leave.

"No, wait!" said Sam hurriedly. "I want to know what Dean's message is. Also, when did you see him and how is he do-"

"You've seen Dean?' Cas interrupted suddenly, narrowing his eyes and quickly stepping into Crowley's personal space. "I demand to know where he is and what you've done to make him untraceable."

"Untraceable?" Sam asked, looking confused.

"Recently I have been unable to pinpoint Dean's exact location at any specific time. Even with my new Grace and limited powers I could still locate him for a while but now I've lost contact with his soul. I've been trying to find him for weeks now, ever since he left, because I want to speak with him but I always show up at a place after he's already gone or-"

"Ah yes, well sorry that's not my fault," Crowley interrupted, taking a step back, "That's because of the lovely Mark that Dean so willingly accepted so that we can finally defeat that favorite bitch of mine, Abbadon. Which of course brings me back to the message-"

"Wait, what 'Mark'?" Cas queried, interrupting Crowley again and earning a look of exasperation.

"Oh, didn't Moose tell you?" Crowley asked sarcastically, pretending to sound surprised. "Your boy Dean picked up the Mark of Cain a little while ago while on a road trip with yours truly. I thought, as it was kind of a life or death detail, little Sammy here would have told you… But ah well, too late now!"

"WHAT did you say?" Cas asked, deadly serious, at the same time Sam asked worriedly, "Wait, life or death?"

"Whoa, hold your horses you two I haven't even gotten to the good stuff yet! Now, if you both will just shut your cake-holes for one sec-" But once again Crowley was interrupted.

"I demand" Cas practically shouted into Crowley's face, grabbing the demon by the collar and pulling him forward, "That you tell me where Dean is. If you are not joking about the Mark of Cain, he could be in serious danger, and-"

"No shit, Sherlock. I think he entered the danger zone quite a while ago if I remember correctly, and very much without back-up I might add, because technically I don't count. Actually, I would estimate that right about now," Crowley looked up at the sky, seemingly to examine the position of the sun, and then down again to glare menacingly in Cas's eyes, "Dean Winchester has already passed the point of no return. Now, if you-"

Sam's interrupting query was cut off by a very loud and angry "ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZIP IT, BOTH OF YOU!" from Crowley, which caused both angel and hunter to snap their mouths shut involuntarily.

"Much better." Crowley said, taking a deep breath to compose himself.

"Now if the both of you would stop _manhandling_ me," (a pointed look at Cas, who reluctantly released Crowley's collar and took a step back) "And shut up for ONE BLOODY MOMENT I can give you the message from your precious Dean and we can all move on with our lives. Of course, if you don't want it, I have much better things I could be doing with my time…"

"No, no!" said Sam, clearing his throat and taking a couple steps closer so that the three of them made a sort of lopsided triangle. "What message did he want to give us?"

"Thank you!" Crowley said pointedly, reaching into the breast pocket of his suit and pulling out a rumpled, folded up piece of paper. "He wrote this for the two of you and told me to tell you both that he, uh, 'doesn't blame either of you for anything' I believe he said and that you don't have to worry about Abaddon or the fallen angels anymore, that he would fix everything." A fleeting look came over Crowley's face that could almost have been interpreted as guilt. In a brief and unexpected display of emotion, he continued.

"before I give this to you, I would like to tell you that I actually feel very, uh, _uncomfortable_ about this whole affair. I may be pretty much the Devil but I was once human and I remember I never liked when a good man got screwed over."

"But," he continued, completely changing tones and adopting a cheeky grin, "As I am now King of Hell I say whatever gets the job done, eh?" Giving both boys a wink, Crowley disappeared suddenly, leaving the piece of paper to flutter gently towards the sidewalk. Rushing forward, Sam snatched the letter off the concrete and proceeded to unfold it, an eager Cas looking on over his shoulder.

"_Hey Sammy,_" Sam read aloud from the rumpled letter in his hands. The hand-written note had been scribbled in pen and in a hurry, as if the writer had wanted to finish it as quickly as possible. Many words had been written and then subsequently slashed out violently.

_I know you probably don't want to hear from me. Actually, you probably hate my guts right now, and you have good reason to. I understand the way you feel about our broken relationship as brother and I'm sorry that I left you alone so quickly and without warning, but it was for the better. You and Cas have each other for back-up, so I'm not worried. _

_I'm just a curse and we both know it. Everyone around me gets hurt, and everything I do just seems to mess things up more. But I didn't send this note just to say that I'm sorry. To both you and (if he's reading this) Cas. Kevin's death was on me, no one can deny that, and I betrayed both of you in ways I can never hope to make up. _

_However, I CAN do my best to fix the bigger problem and Cas I hope you haven't gotten to cozy here on Earth cause you'll be back to partying in Heaven soon enough. Don't worry, I'm gonna make sure of it. Cas, if you are reading this, I just want you to know that-"_ And here Dean seemed to struggle with what he wanted to say; there were quite a few words written that had been scratched out so viciously that the pen had torn a hole in the page. "_As this is the last time I can say it, I lo-_ (scratched out) _you were the best _(some scribbles) _friend a guy could ask for and I would like to thank you for standing by me even when I didn't deserve it. I forgive both you and Sam for your mistakes. Everyone makes mistakes and it wasn't always your fault. I have made my fair share of mistakes in my life, but the one choice I have never regretted is standing by you no matter what and protecting my little brother, even and especially when he was convinced he didn't need it._

_I know you have no reason to do me any favors, as I have always let you down and generally messed up your life, but I have one thing to ask of you for old times' sake. Look out for Sammy, will you? Make sure he has a nice wife and at least three kids before he gets too old and his flowing locks start to grey. On the same subject, make him get a haircut at some point. Please. For me. I don't care if you have to do it while he's sleeping just make it stop. _

_I love you both (shut up, I know that was chick-flicky, sorry) and I want you to know that everything I did was for you guys, my family, and that no matter what don't blame yourselves for anything. With the crap I have dumped on you, I am not worth any of your tears please just move on with your lives, would you?_

_And Cas, when you get back to Heaven please tell Kevin how much he deserved to live and how truly sorry I am. It was an honor to know you both and I just needed to say it one last time:_

_Goodbye._

_Dean_

_P.S. Sammy I left baby at the bunker with the keys in the ignition. If you get one scratch on her I swear I will come back from the dead (again) and cut the sleeves off of all of your shirts. It'll be just like that time in 8__th__ grade… _

_Also, don't go looking for me cause Crowley's been letting me ride shotgun (basically that son-of-a-bitch just poofs us everywhere)_

_P.P.S. If you get the chance, tell Charlie and Garth that I love them and eat some pie together as a family for me. Cas, this includes you. See you on the flip side. Or not. "_

After Sam finished reading, a stunned silence descended as both let the full impact of the letter sink in. The foreboding sky seemed to sense the tense fear that now pervaded the atmosphere and promptly began to sprinkle. A light wind blew, whipping through the trees, releasing a moaning, whistling sound that had an air of gloom and finality. It was as if the whole world held its breath, until-

Cas was the first to break the silence, an edge of true fear making his normally steady voice tremble.

"What has he done this time? Sam, we must find him before he does something he will regret."

When he received no answer, the angel turned away for a moment, trenchcoat swishing.

"I knew I shouldn't have left him alone. I thought he needed some space, and I didn't want to get between you two. I should have looked for him harder, I should have known something was wrong. How could I have made him think… and now he's…"

A pause, and then:

"Sam, what do we do?" The wind whipped his trenchcoat against his legs as he turned back again, looking almost childlike in his fear.

Another pause, a frustrated sigh.

"Crap."


End file.
